


Paint The Town Black (Because It Goes With Everything, Darling)

by psychomachia



Category: The Last Great American Dynasty - Taylor Swift (Song), folklore - Taylor Swift (Album)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, F/F, Ghosts, Haunted Houses, Swimming Pools, Turner Classic Movies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26853028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychomachia/pseuds/psychomachia
Summary: Meghan has multiple problems in her life. Sometimes, Rebekah is one of them.
Relationships: Rebekah/Narrator
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12
Collections: Writing Rainbow Black





	Paint The Town Black (Because It Goes With Everything, Darling)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [liesmyth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/liesmyth/gifts).



“You watched Sunset Boulevard again, didn't you,” Meghan sighs. Pool maintenance is hard enough in the autumn, with all the trees dropping their leaves, creating a murky mess that takes forever to fish out. Adding a body just complicates matters. 

Rebekah shrugs, toeing one ghostly foot into the water. It makes a slight ripple. “You were taking too long,” she says. “You weren't ever going to do it.”

She loves Rebekah, but there are times when she wishes Rebekah was alive just so she could murder her. It's not fair that only one party in the relationship has that option. “I was waiting for the right moment.” 

They both stare down at the bloated corpse gently bumping into the tiled wall. Meghan can't believe she used to think he was ever attractive, let alone someone to trust. She was so young, so naive, so--

At least she has Rebekah to show her the way now. She can't imagine going back to a life without her. 

“No, you weren't,” Rebekah leans her head on Meghan's shoulder, the cool air making her skin prickle. There's always the faint scent of salt and seaweed with her, like she carries the ocean everywhere she goes. “You're close, but you're not quite ready yet.” 

“I'm never going to be ready at this rate.” Meghan can't keep a slight bitterness out of her voice, because she tries so hard to not care, to be like Rebekah and just say fuck it all, let them all burn, but there's a part of her that wants people to like her, to love her, to be a good girl and have people praise her for it. 

Why can't she just stop caring? 

“Meghan,” Rebekah says, and takes her hand, leading her away from the current problem in her life and pool. “I don't expect you to change overnight.” 

Her voice is soothing, calm, so different from the shrieks that used to haunt Meghan in the middle of the night and it warms Meghan's heart, makes the bitterness melt away. Everyone else died or ran away or heard terrible things about their lawn care, but Meghan! She lived through it all! She managed to make Rebekah smile!

She has really incredible sex with a ghost from the 1920s! Who else can say that?

And if that ghost likes to get rid of people that bother Meghan like her ex or a former manager or someone who has their hands on her masters and won't let go of them, then Meghan will have to make an effort, too. “I can get the next one,” she offers. “I think I'm being stalked again.”

Rebekah frowns. “You are,” she snaps. “He's been trying to get in over the wall.” 

Meghan runs her hand down Rebekah's arm, and reaches up to give her a kiss. It's cold in October, the wind blowing fierce tonight, and yet she can still feel the chill of Rebekah's lips. It's thrilling in a way that never fails to send delicious shivers down her spine. 

“So I'll take care of him,” Meghan breathes, releasing the kiss. “I'll lure him out to the cliff and—”

Rebekah raises an eyebrow. 

“You really think you need to take that risk?” she asks. Her earrings chime gently as she shakes her head. “There's a perfectly suitable fireplace that we're not using. Why don't we start out small with a fireplace poker and a good old-fashioned bonfire?”

The old Meghan might have acquiesced to this. She would have said, “Anything you want, Rebekah,” because she doesn't want to argue, doesn't want to cause trouble.

That was the Meghan from like, five minutes ago? New Meghan says, “Nope! I'm definitely pushing him into the ocean.”

If Rebekah's smile is a little too indulgent and slightly patronizing, her deep kiss and her hand cupping Meghan's breast makes up for it. “All right, darling,” she says. “Now about our little pool maintenance issue...”


End file.
